


Through His Eyes

by Littlevera



Category: X-Men (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-10
Updated: 2011-11-10
Packaged: 2017-10-25 22:03:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/275313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Littlevera/pseuds/Littlevera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Logan thought he knew everything he could about Scott. But he didn't know about this. (Inspired by the photos of James Marsden for his movie, The Heights)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“You know where Scott is?”

Logan asks the question casually when he pokes his head into Storm’s office. There’s a trick to asking without earning the amused and knowing glances from her, but he hasn’t found it yet. She offers him a smile just like that which makes him squirm just a bit.

“No, Logan. I haven’t seen him at all this morning.” She glances at the Professor sitting across from her. It’s quick, but Logan doesn’t miss the flash of confusion from him.

“I asked him to pick something up from Hank for me this morning,” he replies smoothly, his face settling into a bland mask. “He wanted to head out early since he was sure Hank would have a busy day.” Logan huffs, trying to stifle the flash of disappointment at the Professor’s explanation.

“I’m sure he’ll be back soon,” Storm adds helpfully.

“I guess,” he mumbles, trying to sound like it doesn’t matter that Scott headed out without telling him.

“Is anything wrong?” The question startles him, as does the Professor’s now amused smile. “He should be back soon.” Logan ducks his head, swallowing a growl when Storm hides her widening smile behind her hand. Only Scott could make him as easy to read as a twelve-year old.

“No,” he replies hurriedly before he slips out of Storm’s office. They were supposed to have an early morning session in the Danger Room before class. Or sex, either way, Logan doesn’t mind.

Unfortunately, he’s lost out on both counts this morning. He woke up alone, and without a note either. They’re supposed to do things like that – notes and shit, Logan thinks to himself when he finds himself outside Scott’s office. He lets himself into the office quickly. He doesn’t mind that Scott had to head out early, it’s the thought of waking up alone and not knowing where Scott is that bugs him. And the depth to which it bugs him… bugs him.

The stillness of the office settles over him, calming him some. Scott’s desk is as he left it last night, papers neatly piled to one side, lessons ready for the day. He likes it here. It feels like Scott. In the books scattered around the office, the neat desk and the worn leather couch. He redid it after Jean died, a mismatched collection of furniture he’s made his own. This place snuck up on Logan too. The simplicity of it, the comfort. He throws open some windows and wonders if he should leave Scott a note of his own. Scott snuck up on him too. Forget friendship, they went from one extreme to the other.

Logan grins at the memory of them christening the couch. Extremes aren’t so bad after all.  
******

He spends the afternoon babysitting Scott’s math class. A bunch of over-eager kids who seem to be miffed at missing their class with Scott since he spent most of the day out. Logan sighs, looking out the window again. He can relate.

He misses it when Scott does arrive, hears it instead from some kids in the corridors passing by. Logan very deliberately goes the other way, to the cafeteria in search for something to eat. He takes his time, the urge to find Scott growing until he gives in and searches him out.

******

“You owe me a training session…” Logan announces himself when he enters. He stops short at the sight of the other man sitting on the edge of his desk, his eyes squeezed shut tightly. Logan pauses, startled at how drained he looks.

“You look like crap.”

“Thanks,” Scott replies dryly. Long, elegant fingers skim over the desk next to him searching for his shades. Only he knocks them off the edge of the desk. Scott curses softly, before he kneels searching for the shades.

“I’ve got it,” Logan murmurs, concerned. He pushes Scott back to his spot on the desk before he grabs the shades and moves to stand between Scott’s legs. Scott offers him a knowing smile when he does. Long lashes sweeping against his skin, but his eyes are squeezed shut, painfully so. Something is up, Logan thinks as he wipes the shades clean on the edge of his shirt. Free of the shades, he looks vulnerable and that is something Scott can’t allow himself to be.

“Here…” he says, slipping the shades into Scott’s hand. He knows better than to do anything else. Scott feels for the edges, the bridge and the ends until he slips them on. Logan can count on one hand how many times he’s seen Scott without his shades. The sharp lines of his face are softened when they’re free of the shades and damn, Logan can’t help wishing he’d open them.

“You okay?” Logan asks gruffly, finally finding his voice. Scott nods jerkily. Logan pauses, caught by the reflection of himself in the ruby quartz. He’s never been sure of his ability to read Scott at times like this and sometimes he finds himself playing catch-up on one of Scott’s moods.

“How’s Hank doing?” Like now. Scott hesitates and Logan swears Scott has no idea what he’s talking about.

“Did you pick up the stuff the Professor wanted?” he asks cautiously.

“Yeah,” Scott nods jerkily. “I had to wait for Hank to get out of some meetings. I’m sorry I took so long.” His expression clears at the last and Logan figures maybe it’s just that he’s been working too hard. He taps Scott’s chest gently, until Scott grabs his hand and squeezes it. They do things like that now and it’s still something new for Logan.

“You should have woken me up.” Scott’s lips twist in barely suppressed amusement and Logan refuses to be embarrassed about the sentiment. He tries for a nonchalant shrug.

“I would have gone with you.” Scott doesn’t answer, instead he simply reaches for Logan and kisses him. His lips are smooth and soft with nothing of the anger Logan knows them capable of. He’s tasted these lips angry, hurt and loved and he wants them all every day. It scares him, but Scott is still there with him years after Jean is gone and they’ve fought for every inch of this relationship between them.

Scott pulls Logan down to deepen the kiss, surprising him with his ferocity. Some part of Logan thinks he’s missing something, but then there’s the lingering taste of coffee on Scott’s tongue as he maps his mouth and Logan shuts the small voice up. Logan feels Scott’s fingers knot in his shirt and he struggles to gain a similar grip on Scott. He asserts his strength, pushing Scott back across his desk.

“Ow.” Scott mumbles against his lips.

“What?” Logan jerks away and pulls him up.

“Stapler.” Scott fumbles with something behind his back and comes up with the offending piece of office equipment.

Logan grins, tugging him off the desk.

“I’ll settle for a training session instead,” he whispers. Scott kisses him hard and fast before he lets him go.

“You’re on.”

“Good,” Logan asserts. “Because you owe me for baby sitting your math class. They missed you.”

“My math class?” Scott echoes, herding him out of the office. He tries to hide a proud smirk, but doesn’t quite make it.

“Your math class,” he echoes. “And now you get to make it up to me.”

“I can do that.” Logan can’t remember what he was worried about in the first place.

******

“Is Scott okay?” Storm lays that on him just as the last of his self-defense class leaves. He hesitates until he can’t hear the kids anymore out in the hallway.

“Why?” he asks quickly. He’s got another class coming along in a few minutes, so he gestures towards a corner of the class. It’s hardly a gym, more one of the bigger rooms in the mansion converted with a couple of gym mats on the floor. She picks her way across the mats lightly to the corner before him.

“Someone came to see him this morning,” she murmurs delicately. “Scott kicked him out.” Logan suppresses the urge to laugh at the thought of Scott doing anything as undignified as kicking someone out of the mansion.

“Are you sure?” Storm nods earnestly, apparently not bothered by any such doubts.

“Whatever the man said _scared_ him. I thought he might have said something to you.”

“Maybe it has something to do with Hank?” he suggests. She tenses when his next class files in. She turns away, forcing him to do the same.

“A messenger stopped by yesterday. When Bobby brought in the package to the Professor, I saw it was from Hank.” Logan bites his lower lip thoughtfully, before the class’ murmurs register. He shoots them a glare before he pushes Storm towards the door gently.

“That’s thin,” he points out when they’re outside in the hall. The odd murmur floats out from his class, but they are thankfully behaving for once. “There could be plenty of reasons why Hank sent something over.” She shrugs elegantly and clearly unapologetic for her concern. It’s a leftover from their time before the Phoenix when no one seemed to be concerned enough for Scott and they thought they’d lost him. They all thought he would handle it, after all it’s Scott. Only he didn’t and nearly got himself killed for it. He was found by a couple of rangers at Alkali Lake and Storm hasn’t forgiven herself for not looking for him hard enough. Scott excuses it by saying everyone was grieving. Storm won’t. Hell, neither he nor the Professor will either. It’s just the four of them now. Who else have they got?

“So you don’t know anything?”

“I’ll talk to him,” he promises.

“As long as you try,” she replies before she hurries back to her own class. He remembers the desperation in Scott’s kiss from the afternoon before and the feeling that something was wrong. Scott had effectively distracted him. But not anymore.

******

The only problem with finding out what’s going on is an elusive Scott. Storm doesn’t know where he is and neither does the Professor. This time around, Logan believes the Professor. He tries Scott’s cell-phone, but it goes to voicemail. So, instead he’s reduced to waiting for Scott in his office.

He can feel the school settling down for the evening. Dinner is done and Scott isn’t back yet. The desk is cluttered, papers scattered about as if Scott just got up and walked out in the middle of his day. Logan sinks into the chair behind the desk, steepling his fingers in front of him. He starts from one side of the desk, searching the papers, wondering if he’s really about to go through Scott’s desk to find out what the hell is going on. Lesson plans, essays and math homework are all in neat piles on Logan’s left. He’s very careful to put it back exactly how Scott left it. It’s almost second nature for him now, a habit he formed because of Scott. Storm is the one that let him in on why Scott wants everything to be just where he left it. It’s a habit leftover from his time before the Professor hit upon the idea of the shades. It’s the same with their room. Scott drove Logan nuts with his insistence that everything had it’s place. Like his razor needs to go on the second shelf of their medicine cabinet all the time. Then, Storm explained and Logan discovered a whole lot more about Scott.

Logan starts on the other side of the desk, finding nothing more than some of the kid’s files. It’s then he notices that the phone isn’t in its cradle. The light on the answering machine is lit, mesmerising him.

Yeah, he’s going to do this. He doesn’t hesitate and presses the play button.

“Scott…” The voice is thin, but undeniably male. Logan stifles the urge to demand a name from the machine. The sound of the streets in the background grows louder until the caller walks into silence.

“Scott…” The name is followed by a pause, and then a tired sigh. “I’m sorry, it’s going up as scheduled. I can’t stop anything…” A bitter laugh echoes over the line. “We can’t…”

“I’m here!” Scott’s voice breaks into the recording suddenly, startling Logan and the caller on the other end of the line.

“Scott, I’m sorry.” That’s all the guy says, but it’s enough to earn a growl of frustration from Scott.

“This isn’t happening…” Scott snaps and Logan can imagine him standing in this office, furious at whatever it is that is so out of his control.

“Can’t you talk to him?”

Him? Logan latches onto the word, feeling his insides twist at the desperation in Scott’s plea.

“I tried. He wants to do this.” Logan stares at the offending machine wishing it would spill it’s secrets about him, whoever he was.

“Where are you? I want to see you.” Scott again, his voice firmer like he’s made a choice and he’s going to see this through, no matter what. The caller sighs and rattles off an address.

“I’ll be right there.” Scott hangs up then, and silence descends over the room.

That’s it? Logan thinks incredulously. He hisses angrily, stabbing at the button again. The message runs through, divulging nothing of importance. He pushes at the scattered pieces of paper on Scott’s desk, frustrated himself this time. He pushes the chair back angrily. Nothing, there’s nothing there. He spies the drawers, and some small part of him realizes he didn’t even hesitate to pull the top drawer open. One after the other, on the left side until he finds it in the second drawer, on the right side.

Scott.

It’s a catalogue, one of those glossy kinds from somewhere Logan wouldn’t be caught dead in. The black and white glossy picture takes up most of the front cover.

It’s Scott.

Asleep on a bed with rumpled sheets. One hand stretched out above him, past his head while the other is tucked across his belly. Logan has seen him asleep in this position more times than he can count, but this Scott, was never his. He’s a boy, an age Logan can’t imagine. His body is slender, almost boyish and Logan swallows thickly at the thought of placing his hands on unmarked skin. Untouched before his Scott came into being.

Fuck. Innocent.

That’s the word that fits. Scott’s lips are swollen, recently kissed, Logan thinks before he licks his own at the memory of kissing those lips. Of being the reason for them red and bruised and looking just like that.

Benjamin Stone.

The name sprawls across the cover, finally gaining his attention. In the upper corner, there’s the name of a gallery.

So, not a catalogue. Logan knows he’s not going to like this. He flicks through pages slowly, his disbelief growing. There are more pictures within the pages of the book, but all are nudes. He turns back to the first page hurriedly, finding the title he missed earlier.

Benjamin Stone: Male Nudes

Logan abruptly becomes aware of how tightly he’s gripping the book. Male Nudes? What the fuck is this? he wonders. He scans the inside cover, and finds among the details of the gallery, a one-line description on the cover picture.

Heartbreaker.

What the fuck? What the fuck! Logan’s mind screams. He almost throws the book across the room, before he forces himself to stop and sit back. He starts again from the beginning, reading through what little there is in the slim book. It doesn’t take him long since Benjamin Stone, it seems, prefers to let his work speak for itself. Only this, these pictures aren’t his work. They’re his life, his lovers, and the book promises more at the exhibition. More. The word mocks him, reminds him just how much he doesn’t know about Scott, about the man running around trying to keep this from him.

The exhibition starts tonight. Logan hesitates, wondering briefly if he should wait for Scott to talk to him about this. Logan runs his hand over the cover again. This is his. He’s going.

******

Logan stalks through the crowd at the entrance, before he stops short at the picture adorning one entire side of the wall. It’s the cover picture from the catalogue, it’s Scott.

A crowd of people linger at the coat-check desk, some gesturing at the photo, others completely oblivious. Logan wants to yell at them, wants them to move, wants to take the picture down and yet, he can’t move. Can’t tear his eyes away from the Scott bathed in light and shadows and … he’s getting hard in the middle of a gallery. Logan spins away, wants inside that gallery but instead finds himself stopped by a manicured hand in the middle of his chest that pushes him back primly.

The hand is attached to a suit, the guy half listening to someone on the other side of the earpiece attached to one side of his head. The contraption makes it look like there’s an octopus attached to his head. The guy wrinkles his nose as he looks Logan up and down and Logan just doesn’t have time for this. He pulls the guy close, letting him feel three tiny sharp pinpricks in his belly. It’s comical to see the suit’s eyes widen so much.

“I’m not here to cause a scene, bub,” Logan growls. “I’m here to see some of those pretty pictures inside that’s all.” He can smell the guy’s fear, and presses his claws against the crisp, expensive shirt just enough to touch skin.

“I’ll be out of your hair before you know it.” The man nods quickly, sweat soaking into that expensive collar of his. Logan drops him down and walks past to the rest of the gallery and into a sea of people. It throws him for a moment, the voices crashing against him and the scents – real and expensive mostly. He ignores them and focuses instead on the pictures on the walls.

Nudes. Men…lovers sprawled across a bed. Asleep, looking at the camera in amusement to anger to … everything. Some look lost and others look like they know too much. Logan goes to the nearest photo, honing in on the small sign next to it. "Painter"; "Laughter"…it goes on and on, but none of them are anything close to "heartbreaker". He rushes past one after the other, searching as faces start to blend into one another.

It’s the eyes that make him stop, even before the rest of the picture registers.

Logan exhales painfully. Scott is looking up at the camera, his eyes open and unguarded for the world to see. Of all things, he didn’t expect to see Scott’s eyes. He didn’t think someone else would have seen them first, watched Scott lose control and see it in his eyes. Why Stone?

Why someone else?

It’s a crazy question because Logan knows there’s life before him, before Jean. It hurts to look at him like this. It hurts how much he wants this. Those eyes on his while he’s fucking Scott. Scott fucking him. It doesn’t matter, Logan wants this for himself. And not for the whole world to see.

Logan doesn’t know the colour of Scott’s eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan thought he knew everything he could about Scott. But he didn't know about this. (Inspired by the photos of James Marsden for his movie, The Heights)

His brow is wrinkled slightly, as if he can’t quite understand why there’s a camera stuck in his face. His hand is clasped across his chest… did he just wake up, Logan wonders. Did Stone kiss him awake? Did he tongue his nipple to hardness like Logan does? Did he tease Scott awake with kisses to swollen lips? Did they fuck slowly and sweetly after the photo, like Scott likes to do in the mornings?

Logan clenches his hands at his side, torn by the urge to rip the picture apart.

Logan wants to see Scott like this so badly he can taste it. He wants to wake up next to this man. He wants this man.

Someone bumps into him, drawing him out from his thoughts and back into the chaos of the gallery opening. He looks around, faces becoming a blur.

There’s more to see.

He pushes his way through a couple next to him ignoring their protestations. He scans the photos carefully, one after the other. The suit from the door crosses his path by accident before he scurries away upstairs.

Upstairs. Logan follows, one step at a time. He wants to do this, he wants to know what more of the Scott Benjamin Stone has. More faces, none of them Scott, none of them a heartbreaker.

Until the photo is just there.

This one… is stark, painfully so. Scott is looking away at something, distracted. What was it, Logan wonders, that made him look sad? What did Stone say? Did he make you look so lost?

What did you see?

He’s… a fucking kid. One arm is tucked around his middle, grasping the other. His shoulders are hunched slightly and Logan wants to reach in there and take Scott away. Did Stone hurt you? Did he want something you couldn’t give?

Why did you let him see you like this?

That’s the question that eats away at him. This Benjamin Stone who would have earned this from Scott, who in turn has never said a word about the man. Has hidden Benjamin from him, in fact.

This Scott should be his. Why did Scott hide this from him? They’ve talked about this, about who they were. But Scott never mentioned Stone. Others, yeah, worthless names and laughing descriptions of groping them in the dark. But he never talked about this, about Benjamin.

Logan’s heart thuds in his chest, the voices surrounding him fading away. There’s just the picture in front of him, before his gaze narrows to Scott’s eyes. Logan imagines Scott’s eyes wild, imagines Scott losing control because of him and... Logan want to see that in Scott's eyes. The Professor would tell him he’s being completely irrational, but then again the Professor isn’t around. He wants this irrational. In hindsight their conversations about their past seem nothing more than a way for Scott to show him what he needed to see. Logan had allowed himself to be sweet-talked right into the conversations, into revelations Logan is loathe to admit to himself.

He’d told Scott what little he had remembered and had been content with what he had in turn told him. He’d been grateful for what Scott had told him. Grateful.

He stumbles past, to another portrait, another face. They’re all young, he realizes. Slender bodies, not yet molded into the men they’ll become. Logan forces back a growl of anger at that.He pushes past a man in a suit who yelps loudly when he does. Why did Benjamin pick them so young, he thinks. Why like this?

He follows the rest of the photos, like a trail of breadcrumbs to wherever Scott is. The names of each have become something more distant than the initial names he saw when he walked into the gallery. Logan is glad for the change and petulantly hopes that Benjamin has found aging to be a bitch he can’t outrun.

It doesn’t take long to find Scott’s photo. The expression on his face is nothing that the man now sharing his bed would ever give Logan. It’s young, it beckons, promising everything without the restrictions of age and experience that Scott now has.

Scott is propped up on one hand in bed, a small smile on his face. Like he wants to be there. Like he wants Stone to have him like that. Logan swallows thickly, wanting to commit every curve to memory. He knows the feeling of Scott’s hips under his hands, he’s held them so tight he’s left marks behind. In this one Scott’s wearing jeans, slung low on his hips. The edges of his underwear are still visible, his hair is tousled and Logan imagines Stone running his hands through it, gripping it hard. Logan’s done that often enough.

Of course he wants to be there, a small voice inside him says. They were fucking. They were lovers. And Scott didn’t tell him.

“Logan?”

Logan doesn’t acknowledge the other man, he knows the voice well enough. He can’t look away from the picture, instead he can feel Scott draw nearer to him. He stays focused on the picture, until Scott tugs at his arm. Logan jerks it away.

“Pretty pictures, Scott.” He turns then, watching Scott’s expression tighten, his lips thin and Logan looking at his reflection in red shades.

“Can we talk about this outside?” he asks evenly, gesturing at the stairs. His response infuriates Logan. He doesn’t want to do this outside. He wants Scott to explain himself here, in this nice pretty place with the pictures he wanted to hide from him.

“Why don’t we do it here?” Logan contradicts. “Because I’d love to know more about Benjamin Stone and how he’s apparently one of those relationships that never meant anything.” Scott flushes and tugs on the collar of his shirt nervously. He pulled that on this morning, Logan remembers. Christ, he really did just get up from his desk and rush out.

“It was stupid, I was a kid…”

“Yeah, that much is obvious,” he snarls. “Your Ben really does like them young.” The couple next to them pass by hurriedly without even looking up.

“He’s not my anything! He’s a fucking jerk who isn’t above using me or anyone else here for publicity. Jesus, Logan!”

Logan rolls his eyes angrily at the explosion. He knows this tone, he’s heard it enough times and he hates it.

“You don’t get to pretend that I’m overreacting,” he snarls. “You’ve been running around behind my back dealing with this shit and you haven’t said a fucking word about it!”

“I …” Logan doesn’t let him finish, instead he tugs him forward roughly to the picture.

“Heartbreaker, Scott. You’d better make this good.” He has the grace to look guilty at that.

“You were the one that wanted us to be honest,” he says, almost laughing in derision at the last word. “I’ve only got so much to tell you, Scott and you know it all. But, apparently the rules don’t apply to you!” He lets Scott go then, startled when Scott pushes him back away from the photo and the stairs as more of the crowd come upstairs. Scott looks at them in concern and no way in hell is he getting off doing this in the shadows. Logan pushes Scott right back into the middle of the floor. He doesn’t want this in the dark. He wants the whole world to hear that Scott lied to him. Scott grabs his hand and holds tight, but Logan isn’t done yet.

“The Professor knows, doesn’t he?” he accuses, the pieces of the past few days falling into place. “You told him? He tried to cover for you!” That earns a curious look from the other people gawking at the pictures on the other side of the room. Logan ignores them and Scott’s uncomfortable squirm.

“Ben was… is Xavier’s friend from Oxford,” he confesses, dropping his voice. “I thought he could try and convince Ben not to do … this.”

He makes it sound simple, rational even.

“Didn’t work out too well for you, did it?” he says, earning a deep scowl for his trouble. “What about the guy you tore out of school for?”

“How did you know about Peter?” Scott asks surprised. Logan smiles harshly.

“I was worried about you. Storm saw you kick some jerk out of school … and we were _worried_. So I listened to your messages.” Bastard at least has the grace to look guilty.

“Peter is Ben’s lover,” he answers softly. Their audience moves closer, but Scott ignores them. Logan growls in their general direction when the expensively scented couple moves past. The lady looks him up and down disdainfully, but Scott earns a second look. He is, as usual, completely oblivious.

“He’s writing an article about Ben’s exhibition. He wanted a quote and that’s how I found out about this,” Scott says gesturing widely at the pictures.

“So you were going to let me read about this in the paper?” he scowls, not letting Scott off the hook that easily. Scott ducks his head, adjusting his shades nervously.

“I… hoped that it would never get that far,” he offers lamely. Logan rolls his eyes in disdain.

“You’ve got to be kidding me. You weren’t going to say a fucking thing, were you?” Scott flinches, his shoulders rising instinctually because yeah, he’s yelling in the middle of a gallery. Logan considers trying to control himself, when someone else walks past. Tall, dark and glancing at the photo briefly before he stops and does a double take at Scott.

“Go away,” Logan growls immediately. That earns him a smile he doesn’t really want to think about before the guy looks at Scott’s ass and saunters off. Fucker. Scott barely notices him.

“I’m a teacher at a school, Logan. I didn’t want these out at all.” Logan scowls earning an exasperated sigh from Scott.

“Lame, Scott. And I’m not one of your students.”

“You don’t visit galleries, Logan. You listened to my messages about…” Scott barrels over his words. They’re talking over each other, neither willing to give way.

“I was worried about you,” he says, each word clipped refusing to let Scott turn this around. “You were losing it, the Professor was lying badly and Storm was seeing you kick people out of the school. It’s what people do, Scott. They worry.”

“I’m sorry!” Scott says, but Logan doesn’t care. He knows it’s stupid, he knows he’s overreacting, but he can’t help this anger pooling in his gut. He pushes past Scott, deliberately hitting his shoulder.

“Have fun, Cyke,” he drawls, knowing how much Scott hates the name between them outside of the X-men.

“No, wait…”

There’s more, but Logan isn’t about to stick around to listen. He forces his way through a crowd coming upstairs ignoring the pointed glares it gets him. Let Scott deal with them.

He pauses at the foot of the stares helplessly drawn to that picture of Scott, his eyes open for the whole world to see. Those eyes… yeah, he could get lost in them.

Someone bumps into him, forcing him back to the present. Logan stalks out, feeling the picture, Scott’s eyes on him the entire time.

******

He takes the long way home, the kind that lets him drive on lots of empty roads. Logan wants to clear his head, wants the images of Scott burned out of his mind as much as he wants that Scott.

It’s late when he returns to the school. He parks his bike next to Scott’s car and briefly considers sleeping in another room. Then he remembers, heartbreaker.

Scott hasn’t explained that one yet.

Logan steps into a dark room.

“Logan?”

His name wafts to him from the dark in the direction of the bed before he switches the light on. Scott is sitting on the bed, trying to reach for his shades thrown carelessly on the covers. He looks tired, without his shades on. His shirt is untucked and the top buttons undone. Logan wonders how long he’s been waiting for him.

Scott hisses in frustration when he can’t find the shades. It’s enough to spur Logan to move, finally reaching for the shades. He grasps Scott’s hand, startled at how hard the other man grips it back. Scott’s expression softens and Logan presses the rescued shades into his hand quickly.

“Here.”

He steps away from the bed, needing the distance between them. Scott looks hurt, the expression plain to see this time. Then, he slips on the shades and it’s gone. He stares at Logan, eyes hidden behind those shades and Logan finds himself unable to look at him.

Fucking Benjamin Stone.

Logan shrugs out of his jacket, without saying anything. He goes to their closet, aware of Scott’s focus on him, where he hangs up the jacket. He stares for a minute at the clothes before him. Jeans, shirts and then jackets all hung in that order. Something else he’d picked up from Scott without realizing it.

“Where did you go?”

The question is soft and Scott is suddenly standing next to him. Logan hadn’t even realized that he had moved from the spot on the bed. The hand on his shoulder is cautious, but it makes Logan’s skin crawl. Very deliberately he shrugs the hand off. Scott frowns but he finally backs off giving Logan the space to breathe.

“I was out riding,” he says shortly. Scott rocks back and forth on his heels clearly expecting more. Logan doesn’t give it to him.

“I’m sorry.”

Logan rolls his eyes at that, earning a frown from Scott.

“I am,” he says and this time it’s enough to make Logan move, pacing away from him angrily.

“You’re sorry I found out.”

“I was…”

“No, you weren’t going to tell me,” Logan yells, cutting him off. Scott grimaces, before he spins away angrily.

“I’m sorry,” Scott spits, before he makes an effort to calm himself. “I am. I should have told you.” Logan seethes at the reply. It’s not going to be that easy.

“Why didn’t you?”

“I wasn’t thinking. I wasn’t expecting Ben… I wasn’t expecting this.” Scott runs his hands through his hair, shaking his head tiredly. “I just wanted to stop him.”

“That’s not an answer,” Logan says icily, stalking across the room to Scott. Scott stands his ground, his expression slipping into something neutral.

“I believed you,” Logan says softly, “when you said you wanted to do this thing between us right.” He’d believed every word, he’d wanted to so badly.

“I meant it,” Scott returns firmly, hands knotting in his shirt and pulling him close. “I swear, I did.” Logan moves, spinning Scott around swiftly. He swats the shades off Scott’s face ignoring Scott’s yelp.

“What the fuck!” Scott yells. Logan ignores him, just wraps his arms around him tightly.

“This is what I felt like walking into that gallery,” Logan says, the words tumbling out. “Blind, Scott. You lied and you didn’t think twice about it.” He offers the last, the frustration finally bleeding through his words. He spins Scott around and out of his arms again before he slams him against the wall.

Scott’s eyes are squeezed tight, his mouth a grimace. Logan hesitates a moment, before he abruptly steps away from Scott.

He looks like the kid in the pictures. Scott remains tense, his body bowstring tight against the wall as if he still thinks Logan is close by. Scott’s head falls forward and when he reaches out to find empty air before him, Logan spins around and hurries into the bathroom, pushing the door behind him. Logan stares at the mirror above the bathroom, overcome by the urge to slam his fist into the flushed, angry reflection it’s throwing back at him. A muffled curse wafts into the bathroom from the room beyond, before he hears a bedside drawer open. Logan has no idea where Scott’s shades landed, somewhere under the bed, maybe. Which means Scott is going for his night visor. Logan pushes the bathroom door shut firmly, the noise too loud. He doesn’t want to look at Scott right now.

He can hear Scott on the other side of the door, tenses in anticipation of his knock.

But nothing comes. He washes his face, trying to stall for time before he has to go back out there. However, when he does all he finds is an empty, darkened room.

Logan breathes out raggedly in relief. He’s glad for it, for the silence because right now, there’s no way he’s going to believe a word Scott says, as much as he wants to know the truth. His mind is spinning, Scott and Ben; Ben and Scott and he can’t stop wondering, seeing Scott looking back at him from those pictures. He falls asleep somehow, in the midst of all that.  
******

Logan wakes to find himself pressed against Scott’s body. His arm is curled around Scott’s hip and his face pressed against the curve of his shoulder, and Christ he wants to stay there. Instead, he pulls away from Scott before he stops, afraid he’s woken the other man up. He didn’t even hear him come in last night. Logan pulls away, slipping off the bed much more easily than he expects. Scott remains asleep, his eyes hidden beneath his night visor. Logan lingers briefly, watching him sleep. He wants Scott to tell him everything, he’s just not sure Scott is ready to do that.

He’s in the shower when Scott comes in. The bathroom door opens, and Logan can see a faint outline of the other man in the doorway. Scott lingers there, before Logan watches him settle in front of the mirror and pull his toothbrush out of the bathroom cabinet.

Logan ducks his head under the water, trying hard to ignore Scott’s presence. He notices when Scott finishes brushing his teeth, straightening up from the sink. Scott lingers in front of the shower curtain, as if he’s trying to decide something. To Logan’s surprise, he pulls off his shirt. Oh, he wouldn’t, Logan fumes turning back and steps under the water again as if it would be that easy to get rid of Scott.

Logan feels the cool brush of air when Scott steps into the shower behind him and pulls the shower curtain closed behind him. The space gets claustrophobic, the heat from the shower making it hard to breathe as much as Scott’s presence does. He tenses when Scott presses his forehead against his back, his hands settling on his waist. Arousal courses through him, with Scott it always does even when he’s so furious with him. He spins around shuffling their positions, ignoring Scott’s surprised gasp until he’s under the spray. But Scott doesn’t give up that easily.He simply pulls Logan down into a hard, bruising kiss. Logan swallows water, tastes Scott and wants to push him away.

He doesn’t.

He keeps kissing him instead, channeling his fury at this man who can piss him off so much and still arouse him at the same time. Scott goes with the kiss, giving as good as he’s getting. His hands are everywhere and it’s a goddamned fight to be able to touch him.

“Not here, not like this,” Scott growls eventually. He shuts the water off and pulls Logan from the shower. He doesn’t want to let go, any more than Logan does. Logan follows him into their bedroom, taken briefly by the expanse of skin and the water glistening on it. The bed is already made thanks to Scott’s fastidiousness, but he doesn’t hesitate in pulling Logan down to the bed with him.

Scott presses against him, his body hot from the shower. Even now neither is willing to give the other an inch. Figures that Scott would be angry with him too for finding out about Ben. Or the photos, who knows, Logan certainly doesn’t. He hisses when Scott forces his hand between their bodies and grabs his cock. Logan is willing to let it play out like that, when he’s distracted by the visor, keeping him from seeing Scott. It’s probably going to make things worse, but he pulls the visor off anyway.

“Hey!” Scott mutters, all Logan gives him time for before he claims his mouth again. He shifts, his hands settling on the sides of Scott’s head, holding him still. The visor has left marks around his eyes, the outline red and angry against Scott’s skin. He doesn’t expect Scott to be any more compliant without his visor, but Logan wants him to know he’s not going to forget about Benjamin’s photos, not any time soon.

Scott growls, trying to shake free of Logan’s grip, but Logan isn’t willing to give in. He kisses Scott again, while he feels long fingers digging into his hips, holding him close. Scott’s still angry, fuck he can feel it rolling off him but he isn’t stopping. Logan forgoes Scott’s lips for his neck, gnawing at his neck because he wants Scott marked, wants Scott to arch up against him _just like that_. He can feel Scott’s cock hard against his body, but he won’t give Scott any relief, not yet. He’s pleased at the purple bruise on Scott’s neck.

“Stay there,” he growls when he searches around for the lube.

“I think the lube’s under the bed…” Logan grunts something unintelligible at Scott’s directions, but he checks anyway. Sure enough it’s there on Scott’s side of the bed, just under the bed. He can see the outline of his shades too beyond it. Logan ignores it before he turns back to find Scott stroking himself lazily, waiting.

“Is this how you want to do this?” Scott drawls, smirking and not letting up on his anger, on pushing Logan’s buttons at all. “I’m blind, Logan, that’s all.”

“I know,” Logan supplies, watching Scott. The angry curl of his lips, the slow movement of his hand over his cock. “Well, since I’m no Benjamin, I have to make do with what you give me.”

That one hits home, and Logan relishes the way Scott’s brow furrows at his retort, his lips curling angrily. It gives Logan the advantage as he presses Scott back to the bed. His legs fall open, but Logan spreads them wider, enough that he knows it’s painful for Scott. Scott doesn’t complain though, instead his hands are moving again. Searching for skin, for touch and fuck, Logan pushes his hands away. He gives Scott no warning to expect the lube, and Scott hisses in shock when Logan’s fingers breach him.

“Harder,” Scott says after a few minutes and truth be told, Logan expected no less from him. He ignores the command though before he coats his own cock with lube and enters Scott in one long thrust. Scott throws his head back, squeezing his eyes shut painfully tight.

“Keep them closed, Scott,” he warns.

“Thanks, I got that covered.” Logan barely hears him, his mind narrowing to the heat surrounding his cock, the man beneath him. He begins to move, slowly at first. Pulling all the way out, forcing Scott’s legs as wide as he can, enough to watch himself enter Scott again, and again. Logan wants this to hurt, he doesn’t want Scott to forget that he lied, that he did hurt Logan, when he leaves this room. Scott’s cock is red and angry, glistening with pre-come, while his body shudders with each thrust. Scott’s hands are moving again, trying for any part of Logan he can reach, but Logan gives him no more than the briefest touch before he brushes Scott’s hands away. You hurt me, he wants to say, but knows he never will. Liar.

Fuck, now he thinks he gets heartbreaker.

The word pierces his haze, fuels his anger once again. He thrusts into Scott roughly, watching as Scott growls, his lips pulling back over his teeth painfully. Logan comes then, before he strokes Scott’s cock until he orgasms.

After, all Logan hears is one ragged breath after another. His and Scott’s mingling together. Scott’s face is flushed, his lips bruised and red. He winces when he moves slightly, unconsciously running his hands over his legs as he moves to one side of the bed. Scott, Logan realizes expects him to stay.

“Here…” Logan snaps finding the visor lost in the sheets. He slaps it into Scott’s hand before he returns to the bathroom shutting the door behind him. Scott doesn’t come in this time.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heartbreaker...now, Logan gets it.

After that, there’s no way Logan is going to go begging for answers when Scott isn’t willing to give him any. What that leaves is a whole lot of awkward conversations, where Scott looks at Logan like he’s waiting for him to start yelling about Benjamin again.

It gets real old, real quick.

That’s exactly why Logan takes great satisfaction in knowing that he’s leaving Scott confused with his silence on Benjamin. He leans against the door to Scott’s office, watching him at his desk. The book, _Benjamin’s_ book, is open in front of him, distracting enough that he doesn’t notice Logan’s waiting for him to realize he’s there. It’s the expression on Scott’s face that gives Logan pause. He knows there’s still the anger the longer Benjamin ignores him, but there are times, like this, that the loss, the hurt on Scott’s face is hardest to bear. He’s seen it before, and he’s added it to the list of things he’s in the dark about.

“Are you going to finish up soon?” he asks. Scott looks up guiltily, before he tenses and Logan just knows he’s expecting an argument about Benjamin. Logan keeps his expression bland, well as much as he can anyway. It’s enough to keep Scott on edge. Suffer, he thinks darkly, he knows he is.

“Guess not,” Logan mutters answering his own question. “I’m heading up to bed.”

“Logan…” He hears Scott calling him, but he pretends he doesn’t. Instead he takes the stairs two at a time without looking back. Okay, so it bugs him a little more than he likes to admit to Scott.

Thing is, he never expected Benjamin to be the reason he’d get any answers at all.

******

The air in the room is thick with heat, the steam drifting out of the bathroom. Logan looks around puzzled, noting the suit coat on the bed. It’s his good suit, the one Scott only drags out when he’s meeting parents. The clothes he saw Scott dress in this morning are in a heap on the floor, next to his shoes. Something leaden settles in Logan’s belly, and he knows this isn’t going to be good. Scott rushes out of the bathroom, already dressed. His hair is damp still, an unknotted tie hanging around his neck. Scott pulls up short when he sees Logan. There’s no mistaking the sheepish surprise in his expression.

“Going somewhere?”

Scott pauses, twisting the ends of the blue silk tie in his hands tightly. There are spots where his shirt is damp, where it clings to his skin and Logan can’t imagine what would have him rushing out like that just after a shower. Just as suddenly Scott begins to move again, tucking the tie under his collar before he begins to knot it, and suddenly Logan is very aware of how much Scott can’t look at him.

“Ben called. He wants to have dinner tonight to talk about the photos.”

A growl rumbles at the back of Logan’s throat, but Scott doesn’t notice. No, Scott makes the invitation sound reasonable, like Logan should understand why he’s getting dressed in his best suit to do this. All Logan can think is that he’s leaving, without a second thought, to go to Benjamin.

“Were you going to tell me?” he asks, the words making his throat close because he has to ask Scott this question. Scott’s hands don’t stop moving and the tie is now neatly settled at this throat. “I couldn’t find you…”

Logan rolls his eyes and Scott’s brows draw together in what seems to be a glare. Pity it’s wasted on him.

“I’m kind of hard to miss if you were really looking for me.”

“I was looking for you!” he snaps. “But, Ben called me. He actually asked for this meeting. I’m already late and, Logan I don’t want to miss a chance to talk to him. You know how long I’ve been waiting for this.”

Logan groans, recognising the start of this argument again. He knows Scott’s been trying to see Benjamin, but Benjamin hasn’t bothered to return his calls until now. Peter hasn’t been able to get Benjamin to change his mind about seeing Scott, or get any answer as to why he’s doing this in the first place. Without those answers, Scott has been getting more and more frustrated as each day passes. Scott shakes his head, apparently dismissing Logan. He grabs his coat from the bed instead, ready to leave.

“Fine, you know what, you’re right,” he says, the words thick with sarcasm. “I didn’t want to have this argument again. I didn’t want to explain …”

“Do you think I deserve an explanation, Scott?” he growls, unable to contain his anger or his disbelief at Scott rushing out to meet Benjamin. He plants himself in Scott’s path to the door, his arms folded. It’s not going to stop Scott, but he wants an answer to this question. He’s asked the same of himself more times than he cares to admit since this all started, but hasn’t dared ask Scott until now. However, instead of an answer, Scott frowns, surprise mixing with genuine puzzlement at the question, as if this has never really occurred to him.

“Logan…”

“No, don’t say you just want to get the photos back. You’re going there to talk, to have dinner. How long is it going to take to get the answers you want?”

“I don’t care what he wants to do,” Scott returns angrily, “just as long as I get to talk to him! There has to be a reason why he’s doing this.” There’s the expression again, the sadness that’s enough to replace his anger at Benjamin.

“He hurt you, but sometimes…you look like you’re searching for a reason not to hate him for that…” Logan stops, hearing what he’s saying. His thoughts are a mess, reliving the past few weeks, like he knows there’s a reason for Scott’s behaviour he’s not seeing.

“I don’t want my life published for the entire world to read about, and I want those pictures back. I just want a chance to talk to him about that. Why can’t you understand that?” Yeah, Scott’s been spouting that line since this whole thing started. But he’s dressing up, rushing to see Benjamin for dinner. Logan hold Scott’s gaze until Scott is the one that looks away, checking his pockets for his wallet and keys.

“He’s not going to give them back to you.” It’s as much a confession, as he is certain that Benjamin won’t give those photos up no matter how nicely Scott asks him for them. Scott, for his part, looks up, a frown marring his features.

“You don’t know that.” No, Logan does know that. He knows anyone who would hold an exhibition in Scott’s hometown isn’t about to give him anything. Benjamin wants Scott’s attention. Though for what, Logan isn’t sure yet.

“I wouldn’t. I’d make sure to keep those pictures away from you and everyone else.”

Scott lips thin, almost in a sneer that at any other time would have made Logan uncomfortable to see. Now he lets it fuel his anger, until he moves and he’s in Scott’s space, his voice low.

“They’d be mine,” Logan whispers fiercely. “Not for the world to see. Just mine.” Scott’s lips part, his tongue sweeping his lower lip quickly and for a moment, Logan thinks that maybe…but the moment passes like it had never been. The anger is easier for them both.

“You sound like Ben did when he took them.” Logan bristles at the comparison, and tries hard to rein in his temper.

“Maybe I am,” he says, straining to keep his voice even. “We both pretty much want you, right? He got the photos, and I got…” Logan gestures angrily at Scott, not hiding his derision. Scott hands clench, but Logan welcomes it. He can see the moisture still clinging to Scott’s skin, and sometimes, like this, he imagines he can see Scott’s eyes underneath the red.

“But, you know he lied to you when he took those pictures. What makes you think anything he says now is going to be the truth?” That one hits home, Logan can see as much, when Scott flinches. Yeah, he’s thought about this, Logan can see he has.

“I have to try.”

“What aren’t you telling me?” Logan counters, feeling helpless at that reply. He fucking hates that Scott can make him feel like this. “Benjamin wasn’t around for long, was he? What …” He pauses when the question occurs to him, and thinks it can’t be that simple.

“Were you in love with him?”

Logan has never wanted to ask _that_ question. He doesn’t want to think about Ben meaning that much to Scott. But, now he has to know. The question surprises Scott, his mouth falling open. It makes sense though, because it’s the only reason Logan can think of that Scott is so determined to give Benjamin a chance to explain. Scott doesn’t answer, instead Logan finds himself focusing at his distorted reflection in his shades.

“No, I wasn’t.”

Heartbreaker.

It clicks then, that word; another reason why Benjamin is hurting Scott. Like Scott hurt him. Logan flushes, wondering why he didn’t think of this before, that this Scott, angry and frustrated, is exactly what Benjamin intended all along. This Scott who is scrambling to get those pictures, scrambling to get that article stopped. Scott sighs, before he brushes past Logan on his way out the door. Logan catches his arm just in time.

“You’re letting him hurt you. This is exactly what he wants,” Logan says. Scott stills, and Logan thinks maybe he’s reached him, but Scott pulls away instead.

“I have to try, Logan.” He leaves after that, shutting the door behind him quietly.

******

The urge to follow Scott, and crash that dinner is quelled by the notion that Scott would kick his ass if he kicked Benjamin’s ass in any way. Instead Logan spends time in the Danger Room, content to beat the crap out of anything the sims can send his way.

None of it makes him understand Scott any better.

******

It’s late when Logan heads back upstairs, but Scott isn’t back yet. Logan growls, pacing the room. The urge to go get Scott is overwhelming again. Instead, he forces himself to fall into bed, though staring at the ceiling and thinking about Scott and Benjamin is hardly any better.

Heartbreaker. Benjamin was in love with Scott, but Scott couldn’t say the same. So how’d he get the pictures then, Logan wonders. He falls asleep with that swirling in his mind, and dreams of Scott’s eyes.

He jerks awake when Scott opens the door.

“Sorry…” The word is a whisper, coming at him from the darkness.

“It’s okay,” Logan says, “put the light on.” He can hear Scott move, and a moment later, Logan is blinking at Scott in the light. Scott’s shirt is unbuttoned, the tie gone. He looks haggard, like he’s spent the last couple of hours in the Danger Room. Scott throws his coat across the foot of the bed, before he rips his shades off and rubs his hands over his eyes.

“He didn’t turn up.”

Well, shit. Logan rises, instinct making him want to go to Scott. But, he forces it down, and maintains the distance between them. Scott barely notices, instead he begins to pace instead.

“He didn’t fucking turn up,” he says angrily. Logan glances at the clock and the late hour puzzled. Scott catches him at it, and a bitter laugh escapes.

“Peter did, when he realized that Ben stood me up.” Scott shakes his head, his lips curling in derision.

“I believed him, Logan. I fucking believed him.” Scott stops, his back to Logan. His shoulders heave after his outburst, and Logan is forced again to curb his desire to make this okay for Scott. Instead, he hangs back.

“Yeah, I seem to remember us having this conversation,” Logan replies. Scott stiffens, his neck straightening painfully, before he turns around. It makes Logan almost regret his pointed “I told you so”…almost. “What did Peter say?” He ignores Scott’s baleful expression, pressing forward with his questions instead.

“Ben never had any intention of giving up the pictures. He also has final approval on Peter’s article, which does mention me.” By the end of that, Scott sounds defeated. I’m sorry, he says silently. Scott frowns, shaking his head at something, but he doesn’t let Logan in on what exactly made him do that.

“Peter let you see it?” Logan asks, forcing Scott back to their conversation.

“Yeah.” Scott pinches the bridge of his nose painfully. Just about every part of Scott’s worst nightmare is coming true, and there ain’t a thing anyone can do about it. Logan fervently wishes he’d reconsidered beating up Benjamin at dinner earlier.

“I’m sorry.” It’s Logan’s turn to be surprised, but he can see that Scott means it; the sharp lines of his face softening in regret. He knows how to read Scott well enough to see that he is sorry, but it isn’t enough. He wants to know everything about Benjamin, everything that made Scott want to go see him. Scott folds his hands over his chest, before he unfolds it again, unable to keep still.

“I … didn’t know how to tell you this,” he says, his voice thin. “I …” He falls silent, his lips pursed, simply watching Logan. Logan returns his gaze, unwilling to step in and rescue him from this. Scott sighs adjusting his shades nervously.

“Ben is Xavier’s friend. We met when he came over for an exhibition of his work.” Scott flushes at the last, glancing at Logan cautiously. Logan scowls, of course it would be an exhibition. He wants Scott to skip this shit, but isn’t about to start another fight either. Scott pauses, as if he’s expecting a reaction from Logan, and is very obviously relieved when there isn’t one.

“Go on,” Logan forces out eventually. Scott adjusts his shades, and looks away before he shuffles his feet and looks like kid being called to task for something he’s done wrong. He’s nervous, Logan realizes. His calm, collected team leader and lover, is nervous.

“He came to see Xavier, and he kept coming over,” Scott murmurs, “but I never realized why.” He looks at Logan, biting his lower lip, his nervousness increasing. This is supposed to mean something to Logan, but he’s not getting it. He lets his silence speak for him, until an uncomfortable resignation settles over Scott.

“The Professor had to explain it to me,” Scott says pointedly. Logan shrugs, unsure of where Scott’s head is at. Before he can ask Scott to get to it, Scott does, and Logan really wishes he hadn’t.

“I didn’t realize he was interested in guys, Logan, let alone me.”

His first time.

Scott flushes, spinning away from Logan and then back again, but all Logan can think is how much he’d like to get a piece of Benjamin for ever getting near Scott. He means to say it, and say more even though a small part of him knows it’s a ridiculous reaction and he should know better. Benjamin. Fucking Benjamin.

For a long moment, Logan envies Benjamin, for the part of Scott that he’ll always have. He thinks of Scott’s eyes, of his picture up on the wall for the world to see and feels his throat close.

“The photos…he and you, was that your first time?” That’s all Logan has the strength to ask, while Scott flush deepens. He coughs, wincing before he shakes his head.

“No, those came later.” Well, that’s something at least, Logan thinks as relief suffuses him. Logan gestures for Scott to go on, distracted again when Scott adjusts his shades. He knows how to read Scott without having to see beyond his shades, but right now, he wishes he could see his eyes. Logan swallows a sigh. The best stories, the only stories worth knowing are the ones a person’s eyes tell. And all he sees is a band of red. It’s not enough, he admits. He wants more from Scott.

“Xavier warned me against getting involved with him, but I didn’t listen. I didn’t want to listen,” he continues flushing at his confession. Scott, his Scott would know better than to ignore Xavier’s warnings, but apparently Benjamin was convincing. He tugs at his collar, absently undoing another button. Scott is unable to be still again, resumes his pacing along the length of their bed to the wall, and back to Logan who sets himself in his way again.

“So, you wanted him then.” It’s more of an accusation than he means it to be, and it makes Scott flinch, the skin tightening over his sharp cheekbones.

“Yes.”

It’s a simple enough answer, brooking no argument. But some part of Logan expected Scott to say ‘no’. He can’t stand to look at Scott anymore, and turns away from him this time. He tries the pacing thing, away from Scott before he realizes that would mean Benjamin is winning. He forces himself to turn back again. Scott is watching him, waiting.

“Ben didn’t push, he didn’t seduce me. He just…when the Professor told him that I knew what he was doing, he just didn’t hide it…and I was curious.” Scott’s voice drops at the last word, lost in his own memory. He rubs his hands together, not nervously, just fuelled by the need to touch, to move maybe.

“In the end, he made it easy to want him.”

He makes it sound simple and reasonable, but Logan still hears a tale of a seduction in and of itself. He hears how young Scott was and how Benjamin took advantage of that.

“It was…good,” Scott continues, his voice soft, washing over Logan but this time, it does nothing to soothe him. Even now, Scott doesn’t regret that part of their relationship.

“Must have been,” Logan drawls, unwilling to let his guard down just yet. “Tell me about the photos.”

Scott must have known that was coming, but he still stiffens like someone stuck a knife in him and twisted. He looks away, wrapping his arms around himself, lost it seems in an argument with himself until he unwinds his arms, while Logan braces himself.

“I was injured on a mission,” Scott begins, trying hard to keep his voice neutral. It’ll take a bit before it kicks in, but Logan knows how easily it comes to Scott to hide his emotions so no one knows what the hell he’s feeling. It’s supposed to be the shit he pulls with everyone else, and instead Logan now feels like they’ve gone back to what they were after Jean died.

“From what the Professor told me, Ben wanted to see me when he found out what happened. The Professor tried stalling, but apparently, I wasn’t recovering as quickly as everyone hoped and Ben was insistent. He didn’t tell Ben about the mission, though, just that I was injured.” He adds the last like it’s supposed to matter than the Professor kept the X-men secret.

“Ben knew enough not to ask more than that,” he says, “by the time he saw me, I’d been down in the infirmary long enough for my powers to need to recharge. Ben convinced the Professor that I needed time to recover …and…” He voice trails off and he waves his hand vaguely as if that is enough to explain it all.

“And what?” Scott scowls at that, but Logan isn’t going to let up. He holds Scott’s gaze, not flinching when the scowl deepens.

“We spent a week fucking in his hotel room.” Logan growls, but it washes over Scott without effect. “He took the photos because it’s what he does. Because he likes to remember his lovers that way.”

“And you let him.” It’s an accusation, more than he intends for it to be, but Logan stands fast. Scott shrugs helplessly.

“I didn’t have any reason not to. I was sleeping with him, and he asked.” Scott’s reply is loud and vicious and frustrated and Logan would take some satisfaction from it, when it occurs to him that the photos really didn’t mean anything to Scott.

“What?”

Scott stills suddenly, the lack of movement imprinting itself on Logan’s brain. Logan didn’t realize he’d said that out loud. He wants to take it back, he probably should, but instead he grinds his teeth and says it again.

“The photos didn’t really mean anything to you.”

It was just something _Benjamin_ did, and nothing more. Scott looks like the whole world just started making sense to him again. His tongue sweeps out, brushing his lower lip, before he swallows thickly.

“Logan, what do they mean to you?”

It’s a simple enough question, but instinct makes Logan feel cornered, makes his hands curl into fists.

“Logan,” Scott says deliberately, closing the space between them. It’s close enough to see the distorted reflection of himself in his shades again. Ain’t no different from what he sees in the mirror some days. He’s never even thought that Scott in those pictures was possible.

“Those pictures…he isn’t anything I’ve seen before.”

Scott frowns at that, clearly not expecting Logan to say anything like that. It’s enough to keep him quiet long enough that Logan thinks maybe he’s said too much. Eventually, Logan tracks Scott’s hand as he raises it and he taps his shades once sharply.

“Is this a problem?”

Logan chest tightens at the question because it’s not as simple as that. His reply disappears before it reaches his lips. The muscle in Scott’s jaw twitches, and it leaves Logan wondering just how much easier it would be for him if it were.

“You know better than that.” He manages to get that out finally, because the alternative is knocking some sense into Scott.

“No…” He can hear the argument behind that word, can see it unfold before them. He cuts through it as quickly as he can, and wants Scott to hurt when he hears it, because those pictures, they do mean something to Logan and he doesn’t want to pretend that they don’t.

“I don’t know the color of your eyes.”

And Benjamin does.

Logan doesn’t say that part out, instead he finds himself wanting to laugh wildly at the expression that earns him from Scott. His mouth, a perfect bow that Logan has kissed every day is open, slack even in surprise at his confession. He steps away, the space opening between them again. Logan figured as much. There’s a reason he envies Benjamin knowing the Scott in the pictures. That Scott would have come towards him, not walked away.

“I thought you said it didn’t matter…”

“It doesn’t,” he says slowly, like he’s talking to a kid. He knows that pisses Scott off, if the nasty huff is anything to go by. “That’s not what I meant.” And you know it, he adds silently.

“The photos didn’t mean anything to Ben, Logan. That was part of the attraction. He didn’t care that I couldn’t see, or if I could…the photos, they were just what Ben did.”

For a long moment, the reply stings, the easy dismissal of something that has been eating him up inside. Scott is looking at him earnestly, and Logan…understands that sort of attraction. Which mutant wouldn’t?

“This has nothing to do with the fact that you have to wear those shades,” he says, forcing the words out carefully and deliberately, “it’s because you’re … you.”

Scott’s expression of confusion makes Logan sigh tiredly. Yeah, his explanation went over real well.

“What do you want me to say? It doesn’t matter to me that you have to wear those things, but I ain’t going to lie and say it doesn’t help. I only know what you want me to know, Scott, and …I liked what I saw in those pictures. They meant something to me that he got to see that side of you, and I didn’t.”

Well, that’s out and from the way Scott’s trying hard to hide his satisfied smile, it’s something he doesn’t mind hearing. Logan finds himself wary of that smile.

“So, you’re jealous of Benjamin because of the photos, not because he and I were fucking?”

Logan narrows his eyes at the last word, knowing deep down in his gut that Scott’s pushing because he’s amused as much as he’s testing his response.

“Both,” he snaps, and Scott just smiles wider, the bastard. “What of it?”

“Nothing,” Scott reassures him, holding up his hand placating. He takes his shades off carefully, like he’s a magician on stage showing his audience the trick he’s about to perform. He folds it closed slowly, before he holds it out to Logan. Logan doesn’t take it, he won’t, not when he can’t see where this is going. Scott’s hand doesn’t waver, his hand remains outstretched and steady. His expression however, is still knowing, like he expected Logan not to take it.

“I didn’t have to work to make Jean understand me.”

He says her name easily, which is a measure of how far they’ve come. Putting that into perspective against the twisting in his belly whenever Benjamin is mentioned, make Logan momentarily feel like an idiot. He’s half glad Scott’s got his shades off, even though he has no idea where this is going.

“And as hard as I try, sometimes…old habits die hard. And, you need more from me than she did.”

Scott jerks the shades towards him again, and this time Logan takes them from him. Scott’s hand falls to his side, and he doesn’t seem to know what to do with himself. His hands clench and unclench seemingly on their own, and it’s comforting to see that. Scott looks vulnerable without his shades, his eyes simply shut. His best suit looks anything but, with the shirt thoroughly creased. His collar is open, and Logan can count on one hand the number of times Scott has ever had his collar undone. Scott swallows, the long column of his throat working to get the words out.

“He never saw me like this.”

It’s a tentative confession, one that makes Logan frown, because he doesn’t quite get it. But then, Scott moves as if he’s reaching for Logan, only he doesn’t know where Logan is, and he reaches for empty air instead.

Oh.

He grabs Scott’s fingers, holding on to them awkwardly. Scott smiles thinly, using the moment to draw him closer. Like this, Logan can see the lines at the corner of his eyes, deepening when his fingers flit over Logan’s face.

“I never could bring myself to be like this with him. It didn’t matter to me if he saw me without my shades. I couldn’t let him see me like this.”

Logan sighs softly, because Scott hasn’t stopped, his fingers constantly moving. Logan can’t move, won’t, savouring every word instead. Scott doesn’t take his shades off, ever, as far as Logan can tell unless he has no choice in the matter. Logan feels his chest tighten, his heart threatening to burst out of it, and yeah Scott’s about the only one that can make him feel like a thirteen year-old.

“Say something, Logan.” Scott’s voice is rough, shaky even, before his fingers stop moving. Logan feels bereft then, wanting them back.

“Never?” The word comes out mangled, but it gets a weak grin from Scott.

“Never,” Scott repeats firmly, before his hands are back pulling Logan in for a deep kiss.

Heartbreaker. Yeah, Logan gets that now.

******

Logan sits in Scott’s car in front of a bookstore and wonders if going in there is going to be worth it. The article is out today and he knows that Kitty gets all her magazines from this store, so he’s sure he’s going to get the magazine with Benjamin’s article in there.

Him and Scott, they’re doing good. Better, even though Scott’s been antsy about the article. He’ll never admit it, and he’s doing his best to pretend the article isn’t actually happening. He’s doing his best to get used to the fact that Benjamin isn’t going to give the photos up either. Logan, though, will admit - not to Scott, he’s not stupid - that he wants to know what Benjamin is going to say. Logan hadn’t pressed Scott about the article Peter showed him, he’s heard enough of that. It’s about Benjamin now.

He wants to read about what Benjamin felt when Scott walked into his life, and how he hurt when Scott left. He wants to hear from Benjamin why Scott is his heartbreaker.

Logan hurries inside before he changes his mind. Cool air washes over him, but it doesn’t have much of an effect on him. He scans the store, overwhelmed at the shelves of books. He wanders aimlessly before he spies the glossy magazine covers in the distance.

The magazine is easy enough to pick out. Scott is looking back at him from the cover.

His eyes open, staring up at the world and Logan shifts uncomfortably in the middle of a bookstore as his cock hardens. It’s the one with his hand clasped over his heart. Logan picks a strategic corner, plucking one of the magazines from the shelf. He pages through it quickly, wondering if he should go back to the table of contents before he glimpses Scott’s eyes again. It’s the same picture on the cover, the eyes that promise the whole world.

He scans the article quickly, finding himself at the end too quickly.

The end, and Benjamin doesn’t mention Scott once. Logan frowns, and starts again. He reads about Benjamin’s childhood, his inspiration and his lovers, including Peter.

There’s nothing about Scott though, just the picture and the word heartbreaker.

Logan smiles. Heartbreaker.

Yeah, Benjamin’s said plenty in his article.

~fin~


End file.
